Life beyond the shadows
by GothicAvril
Summary: Distraght by the murder of her parents, Hermione turns to the very underworld, of drugs and becomes homeless. it would need a strong person to save her. when Nagini bit, Snape was prepared with the antidote. now lonely,in hiding, he needs company. SSXHG
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

Prologue:

No! There was an anguished scream, a flash of emerald light, and the room exploded with blood.

Hermione Granger fell sobbing to her knees beside her parents.

Then a leering face thrust itself in front of her; "now for you my pretty" snarled the masked deatheater.

Hermione could see her own distraught face reflected in the partially disinterred kitchen bench, lying beside her. She suddenly realized it was splattered with blood, and shrieked with pure terror.

The room spun before a distraught Hermione's eyes, and just before she lost consciousness she had a vision of a tall man with wild black hair tearing the death eater away from her.

Hermione woke with a start, her heart pounding as the last dregs of the dream slipped away. As she raised her head, she cracked it painfully on the dark gravestone beside her.

The inscription read;

_Frances Granger_

_1964-2007_

_Christopher Granger_

_1959-2007_

_Beloved parents and excellent dentists_

Every time Hermione read those words it brought bitter tears to her eyes. She should have protected them better. She shouldn't have been so careless. She should have tried harder.

Shivering in the dew soaked grass; Hermione pulled her tatters of a robe closer around her, then reached for her bag.

The sky was still flecked with stars, though a thin line of red showed along the horizon. Not that Hermione cared about the beauties of nature anymore.

Not that Hermione cared about anything anymore.

As she reached desperately into her bat with filthy white shaking fingers, Hermione lifted her head suspiciously. Someone magical was close. Someone, whoever it was, she did not want to meet.

After carefully surveying the area, Hermione decide that she was safe. Swiftly and expertly, she gave herself an injection, then sighed a sighed with relief as euphoria rushed over her.

He strode purposefully towards the


	2. Chapter 2

He strode purposely towards the spiral staircase, his disillusionment charm allowing him to pass unharmed through the throngs

He strode purposely towards the spiral staircase, his disillusionment charm allowing him to pass unharmed through the throngs of resistance fighters.

For if they had seen him, they would have surely killed him;

He who had betrayed them all,

He who had been a spy in their midst.

And he who had coldly and calmly murdered Albus Dumbledore.

Severus Snape leant wearily against the stone eagle, which stood proudly at the centre of the ever ascending staircase leading to the private chambers of the late headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

As he rose slowly, the mark on his arm burned suddenly. He winced at the summons, but did not move.

When he reached the impressive mahogany doors, he swept through to the empty portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

He nearly tore the painting of the wall in his haste, as he seized a small phial of a strange golden liquid. It was emitting an eerie glow, and swirled at his touch. Giving the room one last regretful look, he almost sprinted out, and across to the shadowy grounds.

He was dead, floating above all this. No, he was alive, and being ordered to stay. He replied calmly, "My lord, their resistance is crumbling…." "-and is doing so without your help" lord voldemorts high cold voice rang out, and it was all he could do to keep his occulemency wall up, and stop waves of disgust rolling off him. Therefore revealing his true self to the one they called the Dark Lord.

"Skilled wizard though you are Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there……….almost" _you evil bastard_ (thought Severus)

He knew what was coming, how could he not, after the countless hours he had spent with Albus, going over every little possible plan voldemorts could have.

In his pocket, his hand clenched upon the small phial, but there was a dull roaring in his ears, and all he could see was Voldemorts long pale white fingers stroking patterns into the dusty table.

He felt the pain in his neck with surprise, then realized dreamily what he had promised to do. Pretending to fall and choke, he seized a diluted form of the draught of living death, from where he had placed it under the table earlier. He swallowed reflexively, and then fell to the floor.'

Waiting for the potion to take effect, and he to appear to die, he had a vision of the one true love of his life; Lilly Potter. -NO! Lilly Evans.

Then as if in a dream, He saw her appear above him. Looking down upon him with those emerald eyes.

Then he realized, it was Potter. He did what was necessary, and then felt the potion take effect. Just before he would appear to die, he pretended to gasp in agony, and swallow the phial of phoenix tears.

Hours later, he awoke. The phial of phoenix tears had done its job. Severus Snape disapearated then collapsed on to the floor of his private chambers.


	3. A dangerous idea

Hermione was dizzy

Hermione was dizzy. As she stumbled blindly about the dark alleyway, she tried to remember who she was, and if she was alive or not.

As her head slowly cleared, she wished that she was still plagued by a raging headache.

Because realization was slowly hitting her.

It was her fault. Her parents were dead.

Then horror struck her, at the knowledge that she was completely out of her precious drugs, and, more importantly, money to buy them.

She tried begging. The glances of passers by, ranged from mild distaste, to pure, plain revulsion.

And even when the looks became more pitying, it was the pity of disdainful detachment, people safe and happy in their own lives.

Hermione could not stop shaking. The effects of her lack of drugs were kicking in. She knew that there was only one option left to her. The single option she desperately did not want to take.

She could not, would not, there was no way that Hermione Granger, always top of the class, daughter of a good home, could ever possibly become a thief.

She instantly rejected the idea. And ordered herself to focus on the problem at bay. She considered it logically, how did she usually get her money. Then swore, as she realized that the money came from her personal savings, which had now run out.

Hermione was running fast out of possibilities. She stared hopelessly at the dirty grimy walls around her, then a spasm rocked her frail body. That did it.

She remembered the loathing in the looks directed at her her earlier, her sunken eyes suddenly filled with tears of fury.

They thought that she was bad, did they? Well then she would be bad, and she would enjoy it. She would steal all she needed, and never need money again.

Her sallow pallor flushed as an eerie smile crept across her face.


	4. a mysterious dream for Severus

Severus Snape really needed to rethink his life options

Severus Snape really needed to rethink his life options.

Ever since he had come out on top from the terrible snake bite inflicted by nagini, he had done little other than eat and sleep. The only living creatures that knew of his existence were the Hogwarts house elves, which came in to bring him his meals, and clean his gloomy dungeon chambers.

It had taken him many weeks, to fully recover his physical health. But now his life seemed to no longer have any meaning. It would be wrong to say he was bored. Yet for a man who had lived on pure unrefined danger for the past seventeen years, there was suddenly nothing to do.

Much as Severus had loathed and despised being in Voldemorts service, he had always had a darker side, which was unconsciously provided for, when he was surrounded by the evil aura of the deatheaters.

He was satisfied to while away his time, in bed. Content in the knowledge that his job was done, and he had kept his promise. Though he did wish he could have some company sometimes……….

Then, one night, when moonlight was streaming hauntingly through the artificial window, and the slimy things in jars seemed to squirm, while a horrible dripping noise could be heard from one of the darker, danker dungeons; Severus had a dream.

He was wrapped in his emerald colored, silken blankets, and his black hair was blowing in the wind. He suddenly realized that he was standing on top of the highest precipice in the world. Below him, instead of the world, as he expected to see, spread out like a patchwork quilt. He could instead see his own life. It was mostly in black and white. Then he noticed, dancing through the still life picture, Lily smiled at him, her vibrant red hair swirling around her slim face, and her sparkling green eyes.

Just then, he saw an ethereal figure descending towards him. Wreathed in mist. Albus Dumbledore stepped slowly onto the narrow ledge.

"Severus, Severus, Severus," he sighed, as he wagged an admonishing finger in his face. Severus felt like a naughty schoolboy being told off.

"I did as I was told," he grumbled "I survived, I lived"

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Now now, you know better than anyone that you are _not_ living!" he chuckled at the barely repressed fury on Severus's face. "Now listen closely" he spoke softly

"_In order to save yourself_

_You are charged to do_

_Find the one whose path is lost_

_And guide her safely through"_

and with that, Dumbledore faded into darkness. Suddenly Lily bounded effortlessly up through the air, and hugged him tighter and tighter, then she was suffocating him, strangling him…………..

Severus woke, tangled tightly in his blankets. He had been thrashing around wildly, and was now sweltering hot.

As he swung his legs out of bed, the dream slowly came back to him.

Severus groaned, and then summoned a house elf to bring him clean clothes, and to transfer all his belongings to his house at Spinners end.

He could do it.

He was going to get his life back on track.

For Lily……….


	5. a stroll in the park

On the corner of a short road, which never the less, gave out a slightly posh aura, stood a little white house

On the corner of a short road, which never the less, gave out a slightly posh aura, stood a little white house. It had a small neat green garden, and an elegant swing-set stood in the centre.

Bordering the divide between the garden and the pavement was a meticulously cut, perfectly trimmed hedge of some thick bushy plant.

On the swing-set, a tiny girl sat, swinging merrily, she had white-blond hair, which was kept back in two wispy plaits tied with scraps of pink ribbon.

She was aged about four years old, and clutched a rag doll to her lacy dress.

Her little feet were incased in cotton socks, which appeared to froth at the top, with tiny buckled leather shoes.

Just as Hermione first peered through the scratchy mass of vegetation, the charming door swung outwards, revealing a harassed looking maid. Hermione could tell she was a maid, thanks to the crisp crimped apron she wore, and the starched cap upon her graying head.

With a sigh, she swiftly ushered the child inside; "Alys how many times... you are not permitted to venture into your splendid garden with your special dress on!"

At another time, another life, Hermione would have sniggered cruelly at the extremely 'upper-class' way the maid had talked. But now, now all she wanted to be just like that obedient little girl, who was stepping meekly over the threshold, then being reprimanded sharply, for not wiping her delicate feet.

She desperately wanted, no, needed, to have someone else take control; she didn't want to always be the one to have to make her own decisions. Make her own choices, and then have to deal with the results

How she wished that she could _have_ a maid to tell her off, or even better, be so young as to not have a clue about the large, frightening adult world.

As the door closed with an ominous click, Hermione snapped back to the much more important task at hand. She needed money…………and fast.

As Hermione waited for darkness to fall, she tried to distract herself, by dreaming happily, of how wonderful she would feel, the moment the needle pierced her pale skin. But she could not shake off the feeling that she was missing something important, a vital part of the puzzle.

Assuming that these thoughts came from her forced, prolonged absence of drugs in her system, Hermione shut her mind down. A trick that she had learned during the days following her parent's departure from the world.

The only problem with this solution was that when one thought was banished, another could creep in all to easily.

Suddenly Ron and Harry's faces seemed to explode behind her vision, screaming at her that she was killing herself with drugs. Hermione didn't care about their imaginary admonishment about drugs; it was their other suggestion that made her sigh in wonder, at the ingenious thought. After all, why had she ever taken drugs? To make herself forget of course.

Killing herself. Hmm. Now there was a thought.

Later that day, Hermione walked with a new sprig in her step. She had always knew that memorizing avada kedavra technique would come in useful.

She turned left, into the bright setting sun, and screwed up her eyes, as she headed for the deserted 'Saint Joan's' park around the corner.

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/

Severus sighed, looking around him with distaste. For the hundredth time, he wondered why on earth his filthy rich father, had ever bothered to pretend that he was extremely poor, to his whole family.

His mother had hero worshipped him anyway, up to the day she died. Lying, bruised and beaten, on the threadbare living room carpet.

Severus stepped into the living room, and was instantly assaulted by memories;

_His drunken father bursting through the front door, a bottle in his fat fist. His eyes were bloodshot, and had a mad glint in them, that revealed the insane fury within. Severus's mother knew that this was coming. How could she not? After all, this happened every time his father went to the pub. His father. Even the word left a bitter taste in his mouth. When he was tiny, he could remember his father playing with him, tickling him, being a real __dad. __He simply could not understand why his father, in the space of a single second, had turned upon him. He was to young to realize, then, that the ANIMAL, whom he was ashamed to call his father, had caught his mother simply warming his bath water with magic, whereupon, he had giggled childishly, seized her wand, like young children do, then waved it randomly, as his father walked through the door. Eileen Prince, up to this point in time, had never seen her husband as anything other than loving. How could she know, that he held a deep set hatred against anything slightly 'weird'. So she told him everything…_

_As an eight year old Severus huddled in the airing cupboard, half suffocating under the mass of towels his mother had thrown over him. He heard an eerie silence. Assuming that his father had fallen into a drunken stupor, and his mother was simply healing her horrendous wounds once more, he crept fearfully downstairs to help her. A terrible sight awaited his terrified eyes. A broken life-size rag doll lay on the carpet, bent in several directions, with red hair, red skin, and a scarlet dress. His mother. By her side, his sleeping father had a terrible smile upon his face. Severus had left the house, a broken, shocked child, that very night, and slept out on the dangerous streets, where he had gained his wary nature, until a young couple had taken pity on him, and took him in. A couple that went by the name of Dumbledore…_

"-would you like us to put these sir?" squeaked a house elf with ears like a pair of cabbages, Severus snapped out of his daydream, and directed his hundreds of pairs of black robes to the upstairs bedroom. One of the first things he was going to do was replace that filthy carpet. Severus was disgusted to see that there were still faint bloodstains. All he wanted was to get out of there.

He quickly gave orders for the placement of his belongings, and for good measure, ordered all the sheets to be changed, and the whole house to be cleaned from top to bottom.

He then left, for a refreshing walk.

As he stepped outside, he squinted at the golden orb, of the setting sun. its rays seemed to pierce him through to the soul, and he crossly shook this feeling of, as he set off, deciding that a pleasant stroll in 'saint Joan's' park, nearby, would do him good.


	6. but you're dead!

Severus moved through the park quickly, and concentrated on applying a threatening look to his face

Severus moved through the park quickly, and concentrated on applying a threatening look to his face. His stance was not unlike his patrols through the irritatingly noisy corridors of Hogwarts. As usual, he made an intimidating figure and majority of the poor souls, inhabiting the park at this time, chose to avoid him.

He was losing daylight, and the shadows were growing longer. He was beginning to regret walking around here. The whole place had an aura of neglect and misery. Deciding that he should head for home, Severus surveyed the landscape.

He couldn't help but wonder why people would chose to live this way. Growing up with abysmal parents in an unhappy home, he had to realise though, that in many cases, the worst possible option would have been to stay.

He smiled bitterly. Living amongst the rats of the earth, having to constantly keep his wits about him, and survive the often fatal gang wars, which ruled supreme over the streets, had made him, above all, a survivor. It seemed to him now, that was all that had kept him alive under the constant cruel use of the cruciatus curse at lord Voldemorts hands.

He was proud, in a terrible kind of way that he had not once, cried out, and never begged for mercy. He had never pleaded with the dark lord.

And that was why he was the most highly informed death eater that there had ever been. He knew, even then, that Voldemort had (though the despicable man was loathe to ever admitting it, even to himself) admired his strength of character……….

Snapping out of his daydream long enough to prevent himself from tripping up, Severus glanced around warily.

There didn't appear to be anyone about, but the dark and dangerous park was not the kind of place where you left things to chance.

-)))-(((-

Hermione had found the perfect place. It was shady and secluded, a cluster of bushes with thick bunches of leaves blocked her from view, while there was a shallow earthy depression in the ground, that would form her lonely grave.

The moss on the ground seemed blacker than green, and the shadows of the night-stuck trees, cast deep, haunting figures, who danced around her, imploring her to come and join them.

Hermione smiled with pleasure, everything was perfect, and now all she had to do was actually cast the curse.

She threw back her matted and tangled head of hair.

Her bloodshot sunken eyes in her yellow waxy face glinted on the brink of insanity, and she laughed.

The terrible sound echoed through the night, sending chills and shivers down the backs of even the bravest souls, and Severus froze.

The psychotic noise was coming from a nearby cluster of bushes, and he whipped out his long ebony wand.

"Homenum revelio" he snarled irritably.

He did not even know why he was bothered by the spine-chilling screech, but he supposed that it reminded him of his own terrible past.

Stalking angrily towards the bushes, he stumbled on a twisted and gnarled tree root, and then continued his predator-like walk.

Hermione had felt the spell wash over her, and knew that she had to act quickly. Drawing her wand, she bared her teeth in a feral snarl, then rolled up her sleeves, and twisted the wand around to face her.

Hermione had been going to do a few practices, just to get the feel of it, as it was quite hard to aim the wand at her own wasted body.

But now. The moment was upon her. Hermione drew from deep within her, all of he magical reserves of strength that she possessed. The bushes seemed to be shaking in anticipation, Hermione threw her head to the sky and shrieked; "avada keda-"

Severus sprinted over the last few metres, upon catching a glimpse of a destroyed figure pointing a wand at itself.

He hurled himself into the bushes, and catching the young woman around the waist, brought her crashing to the moist mossy ground.

Hermione felt tears coursing down her face, her body shook with the grief that she had not fully allowed herself to feel since that terrible day when her parents died.

She had failed. Now she would never ever have another chance to escape. She would be watched, monitored.

As these thoughts swam sickeningly around her head, Hermione raised her head in despair.

Her 'rescuer' was standing close by, straightening his long black robes.

So he was a wizard then. And no doubt expected to be thanked for his trouble, she thought bitterly. Well she wouldn't be doing the thanking.

Just then, he turned to face her. Hermione felt as though she had been slammed head first into a brick wall.

She gasped in disbelief "but your dead" then fell back in a dead faint.


End file.
